Love is a desert and I need it to rain...
0 Comments Published by totallygone.com on Saturday, March 01, 2003.

Right now, in the streets of Jaisalmer, just yards from my keyboard, people (mostly male, of course) are dancing. Today is a very happy day for two reasons; the first being Shivastri, the feast of Shiva, and the second being India's so far successful cricket match against Pakistan. If you can imagine being in Glasgow on the day they beat the "Auld Enemy," minus the drunkenness and violence, temperatures in the nineties (about two inches of rain per year), and the drink du jour being not a few pints of Tennant's Whatever but marijuana yoghurt drink (Govt. licensed! Have I mentioned this before...?), you'd have an inkling of what it is they're dancing about.
This is not to say that I'm not missing Pushkar, my favourite place in the world. I feel as though I'd left some part of me behind, and in some respects I had. I met some lovely people there, and will no doubt be bumping into them on the trail - already, fate reunited me with Rachel and Tracy from Ireland, last seen at the Shanti Palace, who'd just returned from three days in the desert on the famous Jaisalmer camel trek. They were accompanied by their camel driver, Pabu, one of the few independent operators in town, one of the best, and one of the cheapest - 350Rs (about five pounds) per day, including food, mineral water, being tucked in to a pile of heavy blankets. The safari involves mounting a dromedary for (usually) three days, and roughing it in the dunes at night underneath the brightest canopy of stars this side of the Arizona desert (I'm told). So I signed up with Pabu's Full Moon Safaris and left the next day, sharing the trip with Hector and Franscisca, a Chilean couple who were honeymooning their way around the world for a few months. There's a lot of it about in these parts - honeymooning, that is, and I'm trying not to feel too left out (in my fourth month of celibacy).
India's losing it's reputation as no place for a white woman, but it really is no place for anyone who's not hot for girlz. It takes me back to my teenage years in Devon, where I used to visit distant relatives and was inevitably asked my well-meaning fifth cousins "So, Simon, are you courting?" So I'd smile blandly underneath my brick-lacquered coiff, try to look inconspicous in my Prince of Wales-check Cerruti suit with reinforced (internally buttressed) shoulderpads, and say "not right now". Here it's the same. Minus the quiff and the suit.Western women are such unbelievably hot property here that Indian men want ALL the details about wife/girlfriend etc. etc.
So, I'm continuing to bat off the touts and spending my time, energy and money collecting gorgeous things from Rajasthan (watch this space... maha-raja.com is coming soon to a desktop near you.
Otherwise, I've hit a bit of a wall with my travels, and am thinking of quitting India soon for cooler climes. The temperature here is rising rapidly, it's about 90 at the moment, although very dry. So much so that I feel as though I'm aging by the second - I forgot to drink the usual three litres of water per day (incl. chi, lassi, various soft drinks etc), and went to bed with the kind of headache you'd expect from a much larger head. I awoke in the middle of the night with a parched throat, and peeled back my cotton sleeping-bag liner. I was wearing thermal long-johns (it was an unseasonally cold night), and as I did so a shower of static sparkled up and down my legs. I was so fascinated (and also slightly high from my bhang sleeping draught) that I lay there playing with the material for a few minutes, watching the show. My current abode is a $5 per night room in ahavelihotel called Desert Boy's (yes, really) - a 200-year-old sandstone mansion whose rear is one of the Golden Fort's turrets. I'd been staying here for a few days before I realised that I was in fact living a childhood dream - when I was a kid we used to visit the Tower of London, and I wondered then what it would be like to live in a real-life castle. Now I'm living the fairy-tale - and at the age of 35, it's more a case of The Princess and the Pea. I've spent ten nights here, and moved four times in a desperate attempt to escape the barks, growls and whines of the dog packs roaming the fort at nightfall, the occasional rat (they really are more afraid of you....), and the hordes of Israeli tourists that invade Rajasthan at this time of year
I'm feeling a bit travelled out and am heading back to Thailand soon - within a couple of weeks - where I'll relax for a month or so before heading back to Europe. More later. Love to all ;-)
This is not to say that I'm not missing Pushkar, my favourite place in the world. I feel as though I'd left some part of me behind, and in some respects I had. I met some lovely people there, and will no doubt be bumping into them on the trail - already, fate reunited me with Rachel and Tracy from Ireland, last seen at the Shanti Palace, who'd just returned from three days in the desert on the famous Jaisalmer camel trek. They were accompanied by their camel driver, Pabu, one of the few independent operators in town, one of the best, and one of the cheapest - 350Rs (about five pounds) per day, including food, mineral water, being tucked in to a pile of heavy blankets. The safari involves mounting a dromedary for (usually) three days, and roughing it in the dunes at night underneath the brightest canopy of stars this side of the Arizona desert (I'm told). So I signed up with Pabu's Full Moon Safaris and left the next day, sharing the trip with Hector and Franscisca, a Chilean couple who were honeymooning their way around the world for a few months. There's a lot of it about in these parts - honeymooning, that is, and I'm trying not to feel too left out (in my fourth month of celibacy).
India's losing it's reputation as no place for a white woman, but it really is no place for anyone who's not hot for girlz. It takes me back to my teenage years in Devon, where I used to visit distant relatives and was inevitably asked my well-meaning fifth cousins "So, Simon, are you courting?" So I'd smile blandly underneath my brick-lacquered coiff, try to look inconspicous in my Prince of Wales-check Cerruti suit with reinforced (internally buttressed) shoulderpads, and say "not right now". Here it's the same. Minus the quiff and the suit.Western women are such unbelievably hot property here that Indian men want ALL the details about wife/girlfriend etc. etc.
So, I'm continuing to bat off the touts and spending my time, energy and money collecting gorgeous things from Rajasthan (watch this space... maha-raja.com is coming soon to a desktop near you.
Otherwise, I've hit a bit of a wall with my travels, and am thinking of quitting India soon for cooler climes. The temperature here is rising rapidly, it's about 90 at the moment, although very dry. So much so that I feel as though I'm aging by the second - I forgot to drink the usual three litres of water per day (incl. chi, lassi, various soft drinks etc), and went to bed with the kind of headache you'd expect from a much larger head. I awoke in the middle of the night with a parched throat, and peeled back my cotton sleeping-bag liner. I was wearing thermal long-johns (it was an unseasonally cold night), and as I did so a shower of static sparkled up and down my legs. I was so fascinated (and also slightly high from my bhang sleeping draught) that I lay there playing with the material for a few minutes, watching the show. My current abode is a $5 per night room in ahavelihotel called Desert Boy's (yes, really) - a 200-year-old sandstone mansion whose rear is one of the Golden Fort's turrets. I'd been staying here for a few days before I realised that I was in fact living a childhood dream - when I was a kid we used to visit the Tower of London, and I wondered then what it would be like to live in a real-life castle. Now I'm living the fairy-tale - and at the age of 35, it's more a case of The Princess and the Pea. I've spent ten nights here, and moved four times in a desperate attempt to escape the barks, growls and whines of the dog packs roaming the fort at nightfall, the occasional rat (they really are more afraid of you....), and the hordes of Israeli tourists that invade Rajasthan at this time of year
I'm feeling a bit travelled out and am heading back to Thailand soon - within a couple of weeks - where I'll relax for a month or so before heading back to Europe. More later. Love to all ;-)
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